


Diversion Tactics

by Nokomis



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-15
Updated: 2012-04-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 17:16:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/383924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nokomis/pseuds/Nokomis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jesse runs into Puck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diversion Tactics

Jesse specifically chose to go to the New Directions’ choir room after classes ended for the day, knowing that they’d ceased to practice after their humiliating defeat. It was a tactical mistake on their part, of course: everyone knew that show choirs worked best when they moved as a single entity, something that could only be achieved if a choir practiced constantly, as Vocal Adrenaline did.

It was undoubtedly folly to even _go_ to William McKinley, but Jesse couldn’t quite resist. It was probably an indicator that he’d gotten too emotionally involved with the whole situation, but he tried his best to repress such thoughts. He surveyed the choir room, noting it was still as banal as ever, and carefully put the card he’d chosen on the piano. _Thanks for your support!_ , it read, _Couldn’t have done it without you._ Suitable, Jesse thought.

“What the hell are you doing here?” a sleepy voice grumbled. Jesse paused in the middle of arranging the rose petals around the card; he knew the voice. It belonged to one of the lummoxes of New Directions.

Jesse turned, brushing his hair with one hand, and surveyed Noah Puckerman, who appeared to have been sleeping on a riser, his letterman jacket folded up pillow-like. Puckerman himself was still sprawled there, leaning on one arm. 

“I was leaving a note of gratitude to your pitiful little show choir,” Jesse told him loftily. “Continue your nap, lout, I shan’t be long.”

Puckerman mouthed ‘shan’t’ before rising clumsily to his feet, tripping over a plastic chair. “I’m going to rearrange your traitor-face!”

“Why, did I break your heart too?” Jesse replied before thinking it through. Lout he might be, but Puckerman did have rather impressive arms that he was clearly about to pummel Jesse with.

“You’re going down for that, twinkletoes,” Puckerman practically growled. There was a brief struggle, in which Jesse was more thankful than ever for the rigors of Vocal Adrenaline’s training: he was able to evade Puckerman’s punches, though a misstep meant he was pinned against the piano, Puckerman’s impressive arms trapping him neatly.

“Of course you resort to violence, Puckerman,” Jesse sighed.

“Puck,” Puckerman insisted.

Jesse paused. “You do realize that’s a Shakespearean fairy, right?”

“It rhymes with fuck,” Puckerman said, eyes narrowed, “and is kick-ass. Much like the guns I’m about to use to get sweet, sweet revenge on your _face_.”

He actually took a second to flex, glancing down to admire himself, and Jesse decided that he needed a tactic. He needed a decisive plan of action. He needed to…

Kiss Puckerman, apparently. 

He’d already leaned in and had achieved lip contact before fully cognizing what he’d done, and it was perhaps even more shocking that Puck froze rather than immediately shoving Jesse away. While intriguing, that wasn’t precisely the desired effect; Jesse wanted to leave with his perfect nose intact, after all. No surgeon could hope to replicate its natural splendor. 

The kiss was actually quite nice: Puckerman wasn’t nearly as overenthusiastic as Rachel, and Jesse thought that under different circumstances this would be quite an interesting challenge. He’d definitely have to employ more advanced persuasion methods than any previous conquest had required.

But he really needed to leave. 

So he trailed a hand up one of Puckerman’s arms and pushed his hips closer, and that did the trick. Puckerman’s eyes flew open and he shoved Jesse, who gratefully took several steps sideways and was halfway to the door before Puckerman snapped, “What the hell, dude!”

“All’s fair, m’dear,” Jesse said, giving his patented version of a pageant wave, complete with blown kiss.

“No one fucks with the Puckster and tells the tale!” Puckerman yelled as Jesse slipped out of the choir room. 

Today had definitely been a success.


End file.
